


From the Nightmare Realm

by mythomagicallydelicious



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: (implied) - Freeform, Angst, Bill Cipher - Freeform, Gen, Nightmares, a lighter version of angst than i think i usually go for but... it's still there folks, stan's brand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2018-06-18
Packaged: 2019-05-25 04:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14968889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: Stan rescues Ford from the portal... but something isn't right.





	From the Nightmare Realm

The portal swirled to life before him. Just like their fight many years ago, the colors swirled and clashed, generating energy and causing the world to go topsy-turvy. Stan had a rope tied down nearby with it strapped around his waist as he eagerly waited.  _There!_  He swore he could see a shape moving in the swirling light.

In a sudden flash and the sound of metal ripping itself apart, gravity reclaimed the area and Stan fell harshly to the ground. Trying to cut the rope from around him he looked up, hoping to see  _him_.

A figure was standing a few feet away from him, clad in all black, a hood and mask distorting their face. Stan felt his heart working overtime. He finally managed to cut the last of the rope from his waist and he stood, his legs shaking beneath him.

“St-Stanford? Brother, is it really you?” Stan asked, taking a tentative step towards the figure, one arm reaching ahead of him to the being before him.

The person cocked their head at the question. They raised their gloved hands up and removed the hood, letting a shock of shaggy dark brown hair be released. Stan held his breath as they reached for their face mask. In one swift moment, the mask was ripped away and the mirror image of Stan’s own face was revealed to him.

Stanley felt like his heart would burst. Hot tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and he couldn’t work up the energy to be embarrassed by them. Surging forward he wrapped his arms around his brother’s shoulders and let out a strangled sob. “Stanford, it’s you! Finally, you’re back,  _you’re back_.” Stanley’s arms tensed and relaxed spasmodically around his brother’s shoulders as his voice dwindled into a repetition of  _you’re back you’re back, oh God you’re finally back_  into Ford’s neck.

But Ford had yet to say anything. He hadn’t moved his arms to return Stan’s hug either. Leaning back to take in his brother’s face, Stanley let a whispered, “Sixer?” escape him.

Ford began to move his own arms at the prompting from Stan. He thought his brother was finally returning the hug. He felt six fingers dig into his right shoulder, just over the old scar. Ford pressed down, hard, and Stanley winced.

“Ouch, hey, that kinda hurts, Ford,” he said, not entirely willing to let go yet but not entirely comfortable either.

Ford’s arm snaked around Stan’s waist, holding him in place, pinning his arms beside him. That’s when Ford’s other hand pushed harder, and it felt like he was being pushed into the grate a second time, fire searing his skin and Stanley screamed, trying to claw his way out of his brother’s grip, but unsuccessful.

Ford’s mouth stretched into a wide grin, so high that Stan could see his gums, and a high, insane laughter fell out of his mouth as Stanley screamed and writhed in pain.

“NO!” Stanley yelled, bolting upright from where he had sat slumped, hunched over the desk, heart thumping painfully fast in his chest, sweat pouring down his temples. He looked around wildly in the dark, trying to get his bearings. Trying to get the ringing laughter out of his ears, too high and grating to have belonged to his brother.

Stan groaned as he felt his right shoulder ache. He looked around the dark basement trying to shake the nightmare from his mind. He looked down over the journal in front of him.

_Back to work_ , he thought, hoping that when he got his brother back, he wasn’t in for the pain his nightmares filled him with. And if his shoulder bothered him more than usual for the next few nights, he just chalked it down to the damp air of the basement locking his joints up. Not the lingering fear in his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little something crossposted from my tumblr! I like the idea of exploring all the different ways Stan's dreams affected him while working on the portal. No specified age in this, but implied Bill Cipher messing with Stan's dreams to discourage/mess with him. Hey. A dream demon's gotta find all the fun he can get when his favorite pawn is out of commission in the portal, right?


End file.
